


Truth Tables

by Microraptor_Glider



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Character Study, Dark, M/M, Pridecember, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Microraptor_Glider/pseuds/Microraptor_Glider
Summary: The real cost wasn't measured in the punishments but the lessons learned along the way as they drew him towards an inevitable conclusion.Brief Prideshipping type stuff at the end, but mainly a character study from the time in the Kaiba mansion under Gozaburo to the decision to make Death-T. Because it is a character study of the canon surrounding a character who wouldn't admit to attraction if it hit him upside the head, it is a bit ambiguous and people who prefer their prideshipping platonic may enjoy the fic and don't expect outright shipping like dating or kissing. However, there are intentional shippy interpretations and undertones for those who enjoy it, hence me including it in the tag.





	Truth Tables

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a link to a Death-T inspired playlist: [ Adjusting to the Death-T](https://open.spotify.com/user/ft87cny6322h0akvzb9a800ld/playlist/2e7SYmBXiuzhB70JWTbTKH?si=-qxXUPLBTtWSuX-mXB3ufw). It is also partially inspired by blending my other fic more into canon, but it sets the tone for this one well enough, especially at the end. So probably listen after reading, but if you want to listen while reading go ahead.

Failure.

A single misstep, a word out of place, a piece of arithmetic gone wrong, a wrong move of the knight, a piece of trivia forgotten, an assignment submitted a minute after the deadline. You know you are smart, you know you are capable, but what does that matter, if you still fail? If you still aren’t quite smart enough.

Failure means punishment.

Nights without food, confiscated toys, a lash against the hand, a collar at the throat.

Every detail is scrutinized, every spec of dust accounted for. He isn’t always here but one of His servants almost always is and cameras monitor the halls now.

Failure cannot hide forever, punishment always comes.

Failure comes from weakness.

You could have been smarter, you could have been stronger, you could have been quicker.

He probes for vulnerabilities, “No son of mine can have such a pathetic look on his face, no son of mine will be trampled underfoot, in order to be a son of mine, you need to know how to survive.”

The world probes with Him, the mansion walls a verifiable Panopticon.

So all weaknesses must be hidden, buried, cast out. They won’t serve you here, they won’t serve you ever. Mistakes are not allowed. Mistakes have consequences. They always do.

The education progresses, the stakes rise.

Failure means punishment means being sent back.

Blueish grey eyes look up in uncertainty, relatives kick them out of the car, bullies push and pull while adults look away, and, most of all, progress is lost.

All the pain and endurance for nothing. Scrapes and bruises, the dull ache from sleepless nights, sins committed, and weapons forged, all for another door slammed in their face. All for nothing. For worse than nothing.

So be strong.

Think fast, act faster. Bury guilt, bury regret, bury shame. They hold no ground in war. They do not help anyone survive. They will certainly not help you.

Not when anger can fuel your breath and keep you moving, even when you are not sure if you can move anymore. So, you hold onto anger, grip it tightly and use it as a stick to prop you up and a sword to cut through your obstacles. You have to because you can’t afford to fail.

For weakness means failure means punishment means being sent back.

Be stronger than the giant. Outthink him, outsmart Him, weave circles around His giant fists made of flesh and money. Seduce the imps at His feat with sweet promises, build an army to use against Him. 

But, the giant is big, and failure still looms.

It is a game where losing is unacceptable, but defeat fast approaches. And failure means being cast aside and turned to dust, but not just you. All the pieces will crumble. And more than your own failure, more than your own life, there is a piece that cannot crumble. But, it is already on the board. The game is already in play.

So you sacrifice the piece and He places it in his pocket. But, the piece is whole, and it will survive. And the game is still in play.

Until it isn’t.

A final message, then broken glass and a body on the pavement below.

And you see it clear, and it all makes sense.

Weakness means failure means losing means punishment means death.

And even if the punisher is gone, the world punishes for Him. Five expectant eyes in conference rooms. The stock market wavers and investors quibble.

Safety doesn’t exist. Anything that seems safe is an illusion.

There’s a Karma weaving through the world, and if you let your guard down it will catch up to you. You’ve done so much to get here, to stay alive, that there is no way you can be good. Closing weapons factories doesn’t matter. Buying back and destroying their products doesn’t matter. Turning a legacy of destruction into games and entertainment doesn’t matter. Those are just things you do. You can’t be good. You aren’t even sure anymore if good is a thing that really exists. So, you don’t even try. 

Instead, you need to be strong. You cast aside attachment. You focus on the numbers. You put the imps in their place at your feet.

But, it isn’t enough. Safety doesn’t exist. You need to be stronger.

You cast yourself into your game, running through the circuits, proving with each defeated foe that you are strong enough. Look, you don’t have weakness. You can defend yourself. You can strike before they do. You can cut down anyone in your path. You are safe. And for a moment you believe it. Everyone around you is weak, so it doesn’t prove your strength, but it at least proves you’re safe.

Until, the moment passes, and you remember: safety is an illusion. You need to be stronger.

And, then you see strength incarnate.

It sits in an old man’s hands in a quaint shop barely worth your pocket change. It is loved, but it cries out, unsure of what to do with love. You’ve seen pictures of it before in catalogs and wondered what it would be like to see one for real. Now that it’s here, you get the sense that you’ve always seen it, just out of reach, just beyond your grasp. It is familiar, and it taunts you, even as you head home. You dream of your anger swirling together into its majestic form and sweeping out a path of destruction. It is strength, and you need it.

So, you take it.

Frankly, you can’t imagine not taking it. The old man and the boy can’t need it more than you do, he doesn’t seem to know how dangerous the world really is. Plus, what is stealing anymore anyways? Another mark against your name as if you aren’t drowning in marks anyways. And, you aren’t stupid. You leave a copy to distract them for a little while.

The boy sees through it. You lash out and try to get away, but the boy comes back changed. The boy comes back strong. The boy comes back with a game.

You lose.

Karma catches up to you.

You die. 

Karma spends the night dragging its claws through your back and ripping chunks out of your flesh. You scream until your throat is so hoarse you can barely breathe, and you kick and punch bruises onto your skin trying to survive.

You aren’t sure how you survive. You lost after all. You should be dead.

You almost think it would be better if you were dead. 

Maybe, just maybe, you realize, you are here cause the game didn’t end or at least if you refuse for it to end, then losing won’t come, and you won’t die. It is the only way to step forward to get back to the house while shadows jump out of every corner and monsters flit across your vision.

You know now that you are truly weak, that you need to get stronger, do better, be better. Since if you are not the best, then there is someone who is someone who can hurt you. If you are not the best, it doesn’t matter.

The thought of challenge is still somehow comforting. More comforting than the false safety that had been trailing your footsteps, since He had hit the pavement. It brings a smile to your lips and makes your heart beat in anticipation. Defeating someone strong proves you are strong. Challenging someone strong gives you someone to sharpen your claws against, someone to make you stronger. And, danger that is in front of you is danger that isn’t hiding. When you challenge someone, there is no secret that they are plotting against you. Danger is almost safer than safety.

There is also a certain beauty in the boy’s strength, something you can understand and admire. A beauty you want.

A pity the battle can’t last forever. You want to relish it, but you’ll need to end it soon enough. While the boy is still out there you are still weak. You gather strength itself, but you also need to destroy the weakness.

Punishment comes from failure, from losing, so the boy needs to lose. The only way to achieve victory is for the other to achieve death.

And so, there will be Death.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation with MysticalShard about conveying horror and leading someone through a character's emotional logic so that even if someone doesn't have a fear they would still feel it. Well, I then thought, what about instead of trying to sneak the logic by the reader, I layed it bare. Still some imagery and all to get the point across, but where I explicitly show the march towards something that would otherwise seem extreme. I chose Death-T to illustrate the point, but also since while I'd be totally down to do other pieces in this formatting, I'm a "start at the beginning" sort of guy. It's why even though my other fic is an au, it roughly takes place around that time in canon.
> 
> Of course, I don't actually believe Death-T was inevitable. Kaiba made choices there, and he has to deal with the choices. If someone doesn't like his character for that reason, or doesn't like that portion of the manga, that's fine. It was a clusterfuck. The point was to really get into his perspective to the point where those choices seemed natural... at least to him. It's a part of the reason I used the second person, though honestly I mainly rolled with how it flowed out of me.


End file.
